Puzzle a Spell
by esama
Summary: "Puzzles or riddles aren't my thing, really," said Harry Potter, one of the most puzzling men Luke and the Professor had ever met. Pre-Curious Village, Post-Deathly Hallows
1. Spider

**Puzzle a Spell**

**I chapter**

**Spider**

Luke rubbed his hand violently over his eyes, trying to with sheer force to stop himself from crying. His knee was aching and he was pretty sure he would get a bruise to his face - if nothing else, it would swell something awful. The stuffiness of his nose wasn't helping at all, and he couldn't quite breathe right. Air came out of his lungs in embarrassing hitches and whines and each inhale was a like a gasp that hurt his throat.

He didn't like crying, never really had. Crying solved nothing and only made you miserable. It was different when you were crying because you were happy or because you were laughing - that was something that could actually feel good. But tears of stuff like sadness and anger and most of all frustration were annoying and painful and only made you feel stuffy in the end. That was what he tried to think and keep mind and force himself to remember, in order to stop the useless whimpering, but it wasn't helping.

And there was no reason for it too, or so he tried to tell him self while angrily wiping away a stray droplet of water from his cheek. It was such a stupid thing. So what it the boys in his school made fun of him because he didn't have a mum or dad or because all he had was a slightly eccentric teacher who had, most likely, taken him in out of sheer pity. None of it mattered a_ squat._ The Professor was better than all their parents combined, pity or no pity.

He harrumphed and rubbed his hands along his face, in order to bring himself together. The Professor was the greatest, no matter what anyone said. The Professor was brilliant and smart and taught him stuff no one in his class had even dreamed off. It was because of the Professor that Luke was at the top of his class and the teachers were considering moving him up one year because he was mastering the subjects so quickly.

He lowered his hands, and frowned at the ground beneath his feet, before realising that he had stopped walking. He had been heading back to home, fully intending to wash his face and tend to the cut on his knee. The Professor wouldn't be there yet, so he wouldn't even need to come up with explanation yet - he would have few hours before Layton would return from the university, and in that time he could easily invent a good explanation - or at least the way to downplay the truth. It wouldn't do to trouble the Professor after all - he had visited school five times now because of the fights and Luke was determined not to make it six.

Except, if he was unlucky enough, the old lady next door would see him, again, and tell the Professor, again, who would then interrogate him and Luke had never been able to lie to the Professor when he was _really_ asking. Not that he liked lying to the Professor anyhow - but it wasn't the same if it was to save the Professor from unnecessary trouble.

With a sigh, he glanced around until his eyes caught a park bench not far from him. With a slight limp - now that the anger had faded, the pain felt even worse than before - he made his way to the bench and sat down to examine his knee. Maybe he could clean himself up a little before heading home so that the neighbour, if she saw him, wouldn't see anything out of the ordinary.

The knee didn't look bad, thankfully. He had hit it to the pavement when Theodore Carlisle had pushed him down. It would probably get a bruise, but it wasn't bleeding badly. Still, when he brushed his hand over the knee to wipe away the sand and dirt, it stung sharply, brining new tears to his eyes. Sniffing and grinding his teeth, he ignored it and brushed his hand over the injury again, determined to clean it up.

"Kid," a voice interrupted him, making Luke look up sharply and then blink to get his blurry eyes to clear up a little. The street before him was empty, so he glanced around until he caught the sight of spectacled young man, sitting in the bench next to the one he was sitting on. The man was eying him with concern. "You alright?"

"I'm fine," Luke said, maybe a little too quickly and little too loudly, and turned his eyes back to his knee. He hated it when adults butted in, especially when they showed concern. It was annoying. Except when it was the Professor, of course, but he was a different matter. "I just fell over."

"Uhhuh," the young man answered, not sounding particularly convinced. From the corner of his eyes, Luke saw him pull out something from his bag, which was sitting in the bench next to him. Only quick reflexes saved Luke from being hit over the head with it, when the man threw it at him. "Water," the man said needlessly as Luke stared at the bottle.

"You could've hit me in the head with this thing!" Luke objected, waving the glass bottle in anger. "It would've seriously hurt too!"

The spectacled man just grinned crookedly and threw a balled up handkerchief at him. "Clean yourself up," he just said, turning his eyes away and looking back to the book he had in his lap.

Luke frowned a little at that. Normally when adults showed concern over kids, they were all overbearing and annoying - usually acting like they were idiots or mentally handicapped or something and couldn't do anything by themselves and always insisted to do all the cleaning up and stuff themselves. Like if he did it himself, he'd do it all wrong or something. Only the Professor let him do stuff like that himself.

With a slightly suspicious look, Luke opened the bottle and sniffed it just to make sure that it was actually water. Then he poured some of it to the handkerchief, before using the moist cloth to clean his knee. It still stung, but not as much as the coolness of the water eased the sting. It got cleaner quicker too.

"Thanks," he muttered after cleaning his knee and using the handkerchief to clean his face.

"Hmhm," the young man answered, turning a page. "Did you get into a fight, then?"

Luke sat up a little straighter, and glared at the other. "No, I didn't!" he snapped, and threw the handkerchief back to the man, soon followed by the bottle. "It's none of your business," he added, even whilst marvelling how the man could catch the bottle, which would've probably flied way above his head, from mid air without even glancing up.

"It sure isn't," the young man answered, tucking the bottle away and leaving the handkerchief onto the bench, probably intending to let it dry. "Word of advice, though. Fighting back doesn't really help and running away works even worse. If you want them to stop, you start ignoring them."

"Who?" Luke asked sullenly, folding his arms even whilst feeling a little worried. How did the bloke figure it out so quickly? Did he have _bullied, seeking help!_ written on his cap or something? "What would you know, anyhow," he muttered, looking away when the man said nothing, just turned a page. It wasn't Luke's fault they decided to pick on him, anyway and besides, he wasn't exactly bullied. They were just stupid and didn't know anything.

There was a long silence that followed, with Luke's anger slowly draining into irritated boredom as the young man said nothing, just kept on reading. Finally, Luke coughed softly to gain the man's attention, and when the man looked up, eyebrows raised above his oddly bright green eyes, the boy frowned. "What do you mean, ignore them?" he finally asked, a little surly.

The man smiled. "They do it for attention, you know," he said. "Bullies. You give it to them when you fight back, or yell at them, or run away - you make them feel like what they did had a huge impact. They feel accomplished when they can make you angry or cry - especially if they can make you cry."

Luke frowned. It all sounded like yet another stupid lecture from some overbearing adult who thought he knew everything when really he didn't. But when he thought about it… Theodore had been sort of strutting about while his buddies were laughing when Luke had gotten away. His frown darkened, as he thought back to the other times they had gotten into scuffles. "Attention," he muttered. "It doesn't feel like that at all." It felt like they were just mean idiots and nothing else.

"Of course they don't really realise it themselves. But when you have a spoiled brat who is pampered by his mum, who doesn't get the same treatment from his teachers, he looks other ways to get the same level of attention out home. Or another brat who is ignored by his too busy dad and distracted mum, they see other kids being more popular and want that for themselves," the young man said, waving his hand lazily. "Bullying makes them feel important. Powerful. Like people care about what they do."

"Even when they get into trouble with the teachers?" Luke asked confusedly.

"Especially then. When they get into trouble, they knew what they did _means_ something. Even if that something is bad," the man shrugged. "Anyway, if you start ignoring them and don't give them the attention they want, they eventually will get bored with you and try someone else."

Luke frowned and then narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Does that really work?" he asked, not buying it.

To his surprise, the man laughed, shaking his head. "Who knows. I never thought to try it," he answered with a crooked grin. "Hindsight is always twenty-twenty."

Luke blinked and murmured, "Oh," in odd sort of, begrudging wonder as he took the man in more closely. He didn't _look_ like someone who could've been bullied, in his sweater and pants and all the books and fancy glasses. He looked a bit like all those cool students the Professor taught, actually. But even adults had been kids once, and he _was_ kind of scrawny looking.

Maybe that was why he had figured it out so quick too, Luke mused. And even Professor, for all his brilliance, couldn't have given advice like that. All the Professor had ever managed to say was that a gentleman should not trouble others or start fights and that he should try and solve whatever disagreements he had with the other boys - or just gracefully bow out of them at least - which Luke had tried with little success. But this bloke had experience the Professor didn't - after all, who'd bully _Hershel Layton_?

The boy turned to look at the young man again, to ask his name and maybe who bullied him and how it turned out, when a gust of wind made the trees behind them rustle, and blew through the young man's book. The man let out a yelp as a piece of paper, which had been between the pages, was caught by the wind and flew away.

Luke, more out of instinct than actual decision, jumped up from where he sat and dashed after the paper, snatching just in time. It had almost reached the shore of a near by duck pond. Luke was so glad to have managed to save it from its watery grave that he didn't even register that he had dived nose first into the ground in order to catch it.

"Nice save!" the young man congratulated him, closing his book and standing up. "You okay there, kid?"

"Yeah, fine," Luke answered, his voice a little wheezy as he only now noticed that he had gotten the breath knocked out of him. Taking a deep breath, he opened hands so that he wouldn't crush the piece of paper and quickly tried to smooth it out, hoping that it wasn't important and that he hadn't ruined it.

"What the…" he muttered, blinking. The paper was drawn full of weird symbols and overlapping geometry figures. "What is this?"

"Just something I'm working on," the young man answered while grabbing Luke's elbow and more or less dragging him up. "It's nothing really important," he added, taking the paper from Luke's hands and trying to straighten it.

"Sorry about crumbling it," Luke said, still looking at the odd symbols. It looked a little like some of the stuff he had seen in the Professor's books. "Is it a puzzle?"

"A puzzle?" the spectacled man asked and laughed. "Well, something like that, I guess," he said, making his way back to the bench. "It's puzzling as heck, if nothing else."

"I'm pretty good with puzzles. Maybe I can help?" Luke offered.

"Sorry kid, but I doubt it. This is something only I can figure out," the man answered while tugging the paper safely between the pages of the book. "It's not the sort of puzzle you can just solve anyway."

"Aww," Luke muttered, a little disappointed. The Professor sometimes made symbol puzzles for him - they could be pretty fun. "Well, maybe you have another puzzle I could solve?" he asked hopefully.

The man glanced at him with confusion. "What's with the puzzles all of sudden?" he asked a little confusedly while putting the book away. "How do you go from bullying to puzzles?"

Luke shrugged and felt a little sheepish. To him it was pretty logical leap, actually. The Professor had a puzzle about almost _everything_, and every time Luke met one of Professor's friends they always tended to have a puzzle or two with them, so he had kind of gotten adjusted to it. Surrounded by Professor and all his almost equally puzzle enthusiastic friends, Luke always forgot that not all people were like that. "I like puzzles," he shrugged awkwardly.

"Hmm… I'm not really into them, to be honest," the man answered, scratching his ear and sighing. "Might be why this thing is taking so long. I do know a riddle, though."

"A riddle?" Luke asked, hopping to sit beside the man. "Tell me?"

The man gave him a strange look before laughing. "Alright then, bipolar kid," he muttered before frowning in concentration. "How did it go again…? It's been a while since I heard it." He thought about it for a moment while Luke waited, anxious to see if he had heard it yet. And if not, then he could try and solve it - and maybe take it to the Professor if he couldn't.

"Let me write it down, I might remember it better that way," the man finally said, taking out a note book and inkwell pen and starting to scribble the riddle down. It took him a while and he crossed over several lines, before handing the notebook to Luke's awaiting hands. "There you go. See if you can figure it out."

Quickly, Luke looked down and read the riddle, jumping over the lines that had been crossed over.

"First a person who wears a disguise," the riddle started, "who keeps secrets and tells lies. Next, what's the last thing that you mend, the middle of middle, the end of end? Finally, the sound you say while looking for lost word. Put them together, and tell me this, what creature you wouldn't want to kiss?"

"Hey, it rhymes," Luke muttered, grinning.

"The… person who told it to me probably said it differently," the man said thoughtfully. "It's been long while since I heard it. Only remembered most of it because I remember the answer," he shrugged. "So, can you figure out what it is?"

"Hmm… well, the riddle gives all the information, really. Person in disguise," Luke murmured, thinking about it. Actors wore disguises - policemen too, sometimes. But they didn't keep secrets and tell lies. Disguised person, telling lies and keeping secrets? "Ah, a spy," he grinned, and then moved to the next part. It was simple one - last of mend, middle of middle, end of end. "Spy and D," he murmured and turned to the last hint. Sound you say while looking for lost word? Something people said when they didn't know what to say? Um, uh, eh… none of them fit. Frowning, Luke read the riddle again and then raised his eyebrows at the last part. Creature you would be unwilling to kiss, that started with spy and D…

"Spider," he said, looking up.

"Not bad," the young man answered, taking the notebook. "Took me a whole lot longer to figure it out."

"That was pretty neat," Luke said, basking in the satisfaction of a solved puzzle. There was nothing better than the feeling you got when you achieved something like that. "You know any other riddles?"

"Sorry kid. Puzzles or riddles aren't my thing, really," the man answered, putting the notebook away. Then he looked down to Luke while pushing his glasses higher up his nose. He smiled. "I see you're feeling a bit better, though."

Luke blinked and then grinned. He had, for a moment, completely forgotten the whole incident with Theodore Carlisle. "Yes, I guess I am. Thank you, sir."

The young man winced slightly at that. "Just Harry is fine," he said, holding his right hand for a shake. "Harry Potter. And you are?"

"Luke Triton," the boy answered, grabbing the hand and shaking it. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Harry."

"You too, Luke," the man answered with a crooked grin. "How's the knee?" he then asked.

Luke glanced down to the knee. Odd, it didn't hurt as much as before. "It's gonna have a bruise," he muttered, lifting the said knee up and poling the reddened area. It wasn't bleeding anymore either. "But it's fine."

"Good," Harry said, while closing his bag and hoisting it to his shoulder. "Well, it's about I head home. It's almost dinner time. Shouldn't you head home too? Your parents must be worrying."

"I don't have any," Luke said, jumping down from the bench while the man stood up. "But I should head back so I can make something to eat for the Professor," he mused. He still had time, but maybe he would do something extra special today. He felt like he deserved it. "So, uh… Thanks for the puzzle. Oh, and the advice too," he said. "I'm gonna try it the next time."

"If you do, keep in mind that it will probably take few tries before it sinks in," Harry said, lifting the strap of his shoulder bag over his head so that the strap crossed over his chest. "The first time, they will think you're playing at something and probably push you around twice as hard. But the third, fourth time, it ought to start working and they figure that you're not fun anymore."

"I'll remember that," Luke promised. He would have to write it down to his journal, probably, so that he wouldn't forget it. "Thanks again. I'll be going now."

"Good luck, kid," the young man answered, and as Luke turned to head towards home, he could feel the man's eyes on him for several seconds, before Harry too turned to head away. He didn't think much of it, though, and instead tried to memorise the riddle so that he could tell it to the Professor later.

x

Luke was just finishing the dinner when the Professor came home, looking a little worse for wear after another long day of teaching. "Welcome back, Professor," the boy called cheerfully to his teacher when he heard Layton calling his return from the front door, not looking up from the sauce he was preparing. It would go so well with the roast he was making.

"Something smells good," the Professor said as he entered the kitchen, leaving his suitcase by the doorway and stepping closer, looking curious. "My boy, have you gone overboard with the food again?"

"You _can't_ go overboard with food, no way," Luke answered with a smile while taking a spoon and dipping it in the sauce so that he could try how it tasted. "There was some beef in the freezer so I thought I might as well cook it. What do you think, Professor?" he asked, offering the spoon to his teacher for taste testing. "Too much pepper?"

Layton smiled indulgently and tried the sauce, looking thoughtful for a moment before chuckling. "I'd say it has a little bit too much salt. Dash of garlic could do good for it, perhaps, but you're the food connoisseur, not I," he said, before frowning as he took Luke's face in more closely. "Luke, your face…" he started, stopped to step back and view the full picture. "And your knee. Did you get into another disagreement with your school mates?"

"It was just a bit of a scuffle," Luke said. "It won't happen again," he then promised in full earnest, waving the matter aside with a spatula and making his teacher raise eyebrow curiously.

"Oh, indeed?" Layton asked, sounding both amused and suspicious.

Luke huffed. Sure, he had made such promises before with little to show for the effort of keeping them, but this time it was different. This time he had a plan. "It won't," he repeated forcefully while stirring the sauce again and taking the kettle in which he was making it off the stove. "Anyhow, this is almost done," he said to change the subject. "The potatoes are already on the table, I only need to take the roast off the oven."

"Very well then. I shall go and wash up, and then I shall help you in setting the table," the Professor said, glancing over the kitchen and shaking his head in amazement. "Your expertise with cooking never ceases to amaze me, my boy. You learned it all so quickly."

Luke snorted with a faint grin, to which the Professor tipped his hat in silent agreement. If he hadn't learned to cook, they would still be eating _Layton__'s_ cooking, and for a gentleman skilled in so many fields, kitchen was a place Layton was no master. Except when it came to making tea, of course. And Luke, who appreciated food with enthusiasm very fitting of a boy his age, would not stand by the endless stream of sandwiches and salads in order to avoid the excess usage of the stove.

Professor Layton took his case to the study and after visiting the bathroom he joined Luke in the kitchen and set the table while Luke took the roast itself out of the oven. "You might have made a tad bit too much, my boy," the Professor noted, seeing the size of it.

"Nonsense!" Luke said happily. He could easily eat half of it and it would be rude to expect Layton to settle for anything less. With a cheerful smile, the boy went about cutting the meat, while his teacher shook his head in amusement and lifted the sauce to the table. By the time Luke had finished, the sandwich equipment were also on the table, along with bottle of milk.

"So, tell me what has gotten you to such a cheerful mood despite your… school yard scuffle?" the Professor asked as they sat down. It was sound question, as fights usually left Luke sulky and brooding for the rest of the day.

"I met this bloke in the park," Luke said excitedly. "He gave me advice about stuff like that - and he told me a riddle," he added while piling slices of the meat to his plate. "Would you like to hear it? It wasn't really that hard, but it was pretty inventive. It rhymed!"

Layton chuckled. "I would love to hear it, my boy, of course," he said, listened to the riddle while taking some potatoes. He chuckled when the boy finished the rhyme with a dramatic pose. "For a riddle, that one is certainly entertaining," the man said with a thoughtful look about his face. "And, in a way, inventive."

"You already solved it," Luke muttered a little sullenly. "Could you at least take a moment?"

The Professor smiled and took a bite of the meat. "Oh, this is different," he murmured with surprise. "Though you got fairly creative with the spices again."

"It's not bad, is it?" Luke asked worriedly, and tried the meat himself. He grinned after contemplating it. It wasn't bad at all. "Hey, Professor, can you tell what I used on the meat?" he asked, glancing towards the spice cupboard. "I used everything on the lower shelf, except for two. Fifteen points if you get it right."

"A puzzle of food? I shall take the challenge, Luke," Layton answered with a laugh, and took another bite while eying the shelf with the spices on it. "Hmm… this is difficult. Can I have a hint?" the man asked after a moment.

"Well," Luke looked at the shelf again and then grinned. "One of the spices I used can be found on the second shelf," he said with a grin.

"That would be red pepper then," Layton said thoughtfully as he spotted the matching shakers. "And you obviously used salt."

"That's two of five. What else?"

"Let's see… garlic," the Professor said thoughtfully, and took another bite. "Ah, yes, pepper."

"Garlic is right, but no pepper. That's on the sauce," Luke answered, reaching to take a piece of bread. "Three down, two to go, Professor. Oh, and points went down for the pepper. Thirteen points now."

"Yes, yes," Layton murmured amusedly, and eyed the shelf again. "Wait, you did not use pepper, so that is a possibility eliminated. Let's see, logically I should have three options left and one of them was not used…" he stopped and smiled. "Sneaky boy. I almost forgot you put the ginger into a new bottle. That means… rosemary and fennel."

"Excellent work, Professor," Luke congratulated. "Except I still could've used the ginger."

"Maybe on the sauce, but not on the meat. It is not your way of cooking," the man said with a smile and took another bite. "So, I win thirteen points for this. That makes the tally -"

"With you leading by two hundred fifty seven to hundred and eighty nine," Luke said, sighing. He was losing their Picarat race. But really, who could blame him when he was again _the Professor_? Even though the Professor gave him more puzzles to solve, they were always so hard he didn't get them the first try. And most often than not Layton figured all his puzzles on the first try. And got full points from them.

"Hmm… Perhaps I should use some of the points," Layton mused with a chuckle at his sullen expression. "My study could use some work. It was fifty points for the cleaning of a whole room, wasn't it?" Luke just sighed even more heavily in answer, making the Professor smile widen slightly. "Well then. For fifty Picarats you shall clean my study within, say, the next two weeks. That would make the tally two hundred and seven to your one hundred and eighty nine."

"Alright, I'll do it this weekend," the boy sighed again, not looking forward to it. The Professor could really get the office messy in a short time. "But I demand ice cream afterwards."

"I shall see what I can do about it," the Professor promised and they finished the meal in more or less good mood. "So, tell me about the fellow you met. He gave you an advice, you said?" the man asked once they were done and cleaning up the table.

"Yeah, Harry. He let me use his handkerchief to clean up my knee and face," Luke said while storing the rest of the dinner. It would make a side addition to the supper. "He sort of figured out what happened before I even said anything, and told me how I should deal with bullies."

"And what was his advice?" the Professor asked, now frowning in concern, probably worried that the advice was something along the lines of _fight back twice as hard_. It had been Luke's own mentality for a while before he had realised that fighting back at all was pretty hard when you were against four boys, all taller and wider than you were.

"He told me to ignore them," Luke said. "He said that bullies just want attention and recognition, I guess, and that if I don't give it to them they will get bored with me."

"Hmm… I must admit, I had not considered that sort of option to your troubles," Professor Layton said while filling a sink with water and putting their plates into it.

"I'm going to try it," Luke said determinately. "I have a feeling it will work."

"It very well might," the Professor mused and sealed the milk bottle. "You said that the fellow's name was Harry?"

"Yeah, Harry Potter," Luke nodded. "I think he's a student or something - he had lot of books with him and was reading one when I saw him. Oh, and he was doing this weird chart, I think, with all sort of symbols and lines. It looked a little like puzzle," he said, thinking back to the sliver of paper he had rescued.

"Harry Potter, hmm…" the Professor hummed. "The name does not ring any bells. If he is a student, then he is not one I have encountered. But to be fair, there are many schools in London I have not visited in a long while."

"Yes, maybe," Luke murmured and then shrugged his shoulders. Where Harry studied and what he studied didn't really matter to him all that much. After all, the man wasn't into puzzles. He shook his head and then looked up to his teacher. "So, how was the university, Professor? Did anything interesting happen?"

"If by interesting you mean exciting, then I will have to say that no, not quite," Layton said, smiling fondly at him. "But I did come up with a puzzle for you, if you feel up to trying it…"

x

So I bought a DS and there was a second-hand copy of the Curious Village on sale in the local game store. Aaand fadfsrgnjxkdfv I love the games. Yes I do. Soo of course I got to write a story. And a crossover too. So, anyway, this is pre-first-game, taking place maybe year or so before the events of Curious Village, and post-Deathly-Hallows on Harry's part. I'm probably not going to be completely canonical with this thing, though, as I've only played the first game, and I'm adding my own ideas to this which have no facts supporting them. So I suppose it would be safe to assume this an AU. My apologies for grammar errors and such.


	2. Watch

**II chapter**

**Watch**

Autumn time was boring, Luke mused to himself while making his way through the park and towards home. Well, every time could be more or less boring and spring time was in no way more interesting, but there was something especially tiresome about autumn. And that was school.

He sighed morosely, tucking his hands into the pockets of his shorts. Most in his class would probably disagree with him to some extent, as they got to see their friends day in and day out and so forth. And if nothing else, there was recess and all you could do during that time, all the games you could play. The problem Luke had was not, however, in the fact that he had no friends in his school or that he was decisively bad in any game that required more than logical thinking - team sports being more or less beyond his comprehension. It was in the concept that _schools were on_.

Which meant that he had to stay in school several days a week, just sitting there, studying. And more than that, it meant that Professor Layton had to stay in the university, teaching bunch of youngsters some archaeology. Though the Professor himself might enjoy the task immensely, it meant one thing which Luke did not much like. It meant staying home. A lot.

Not that there was anything _wrong_ with their home, heavens forbid, he thought a little guiltily. He liked the house and all the puzzles Layton had hidden into the rooms, and all the interesting toys and games he owed, and so forth. As homes went, theirs was by far the best of all that probably existed, in Luke's opinion. But staying home meant no travelling. And travelling with Layton was what Luke loved the best.

He thought back to the passed summer with little bit of longing. They had travelled all around the country, running after mysteries and meeting other puzzle enthusiasts and so forth. It had been so much fun, that he would've loved to continue it a whole lot longer. But Professor Layton had to work and Luke had to go to school so they were grounded, more or less, until the next major holiday. Unless, of course, something happened in London that they could work with, some case with the police that the Professor's expertise could help with… something which could be solved within hours or, at most, few days.

Well, he had managed to live through the last year and the school without going insane, he would do it this time too, he thought with determination approaching the corner of the park where the duck pond was. He would distract himself with puzzles, maybe invent one or two for the Professor to solve, and he would ponder on the puzzles Layton had given him which he had yet to figure out. Maybe he would work on some riddles too.

Thinking of riddles made him remember spider riddle and the man who had told it to him, and realise that he was almost at the spot of the park where he had met Harry Potter few days back. Before thinking it through and realising that the possibility of the man being there again was pretty slim, he glanced around and towards the bench where Harry had sat. It wasn't empty, but the man occupying the bench was most definitely not Harry Potter. Luke eyed the long bearded man for a moment before sighing with mild disappointment.

Not that meeting Harry Potter again would really mean much. Luke rather doubted he would have another riddle as much fun as the spider one. Shaking his head, Luke passed the bearded man by and continued making his way towards home, wondering instead what he would make for dinner that day. Maybe some soup…

"Hey, puzzle kid," a familiar voice suddenly called, almost making Luke miss a step and fall over. He managed to avoid it by twirling around and just and just managing to catch his weight on his other foot. "Ooh, acrobatics too. You got some talents."

"What the - you! What's the big idea, I could've fallen over!" Luke snapped as he saw Harry Potter who, with an open book in his hand, was standing by a trash bin. Apparently, he had just thrown something in. Not that Luke much cared. "First the bottle and now this. It's like you're trying to get me hurt."

"Maybe I like watching the spectacle of you getting all angry?" the young man asked amusedly while closing the book and tucking it beneath his arm. "Or I could say it was your own fault for running and not paying attention to your surroundings."

"You!" Luke accused, pointing a finger at the man. "You… you, why did I think you were a good guy? You're annoying."

"I do try my best," Harry said, apparently not least bit insulted. He just smiled at Luke's huffing and growling. "It's been a few days since we talked. How goes it on the bully front?"

"Hmph," Luke answered folding his arms. Theodore had caught sick and hadn't been to school in few days - and his buddies never did anything without him, they didn't even tease him without Theodore. So nothing had really happened. "None of your business."

"Well, you're not beat up so I'll take that as a good sign," the young man said, before turning his back to Luke and starting to walk away.

"Oi," the boy called after him, annoyed. "You can't just walk away in middle of a conversation," he said, following the other. "Hey, you, stop being so rude!"

"I'm rude? Funny, kid, very funny," Harry chuckled while sitting down to the nearest bench. "You know, to be rude you need to be polite first, so if I haven't been polite, I can't be rude either."

"It doesn't work like that. Rudeness and politeness aren't opposites and they don't cancel each other out - or exist without or because of each other. They just are, they're states of being," Luke answered while falling to sit beside the man, determined not to let him get off so easily. "Rude people can never be polite thorough their whole life and they're _still_ rude. Same goes for polite people."

"Indeed?" the young man asked amusedly while leaning back against the backrest of the bench and opening his books. "Well, I be damned, you learn something new every day."

"Stop making fun of me!" the boy snapped, more irritated by the other's amusement than the words. "Everyone knows it doesn't work like you think it does."

"I wouldn't go that far," Harry answered calmly and grinned at his annoyed expression. "I can almost see why you're picked on by bullies, puzzle kid," he said, reaching out and pulling Luke's cap askew. "You're pretty cute when you get worked up."

"Don't do that! And my name is Luke. And you're annoying." the boy announced, jumping up from the bench. "Why am I talking with you when you're annoying?"

"Don't ask me, you're the one who followed me," the man answered, shrugging his shoulders lazily and turning his attention back to his book.

"You're the one who called for me and made me almost fall over," Luke snapped back, feeling a terrible urge to snatch the man's book away and maybe throw it to the pond. But a voice in the back of his head - which sounded awfully like the Professor - was sternly saying that it was no way a gentleman ought to behave. So instead, he harrumphed and looked away. "You don't even like puzzles."

The man laughed at that. "Oh, that is adorable. Was that supposed to be an insult?" he asked, chuckling. "Keep this up and I just might have to start pinching your cheeks and cooing at what a cute young man you are."

"Eeh," Luke muttered, taking a step back. He did not want to get his cheeks pinched. "You are annoying," he said sullenly before folding his arms. "What goes around the house and into the house, but never touches the house?" he asked.

"What?" Harry asked, blinking.

"What walks all day on its head?"

The man said nothing this time, just blinked again, raising his eyebrow with confusion.

"What asks no question, but demands an answer? What goes up and down but never moves? What word if pronounced right is wrong but pronounced wrong is right?" Luke asked in rapid succession. "What belongs to you but is more used by others? What is drawn by everyone without a pen or a pencil? What can run but not walk?"

He stopped to take a breath while the man still kept staring at him like he had grown another head. Then he continued; "What has teeth but no mouth? What piece of wood is like a king? What goes around the yard but doesn't move? What weighs more: a stone of lead or stone of feathers? Who never gets his hair wet in a shower? What has two hands but no arms? What kind of cap is never removed?"

Luke took another breath, and continued his litany with; "A girl has six pairs of black gloves and six pairs of brown gloves. In darkness, how many gloves must she take from the drawer to make sure she had a matching pair?" he asked, and when Harry said nothing, he tried another; "Mum, dad and two kids run across a river and find a boat. It's small and can carry only one adult or two kids at a time. How does the whole family get across the river?" he asked, pointing accusing finger that the young man, who had now leaned back and was eying him like he was some sort of rare creature. "Can't think of an answer, can you?"

Harry just eyed him for a moment. "How can you tell a pair of twin witches apart?" he asked instead even trying to answer any question Luke had just thrown at him.

"What?" Luke asked, his momentum suddenly halted.

"You can't. It's too hard to tell which witch is which," the man grinned at him, closing his book and placing it aside. "You ever used that tactic on your bullies, puzzle boy?" he asked, crossing one leg over another and folding his arms. He looked shockingly like a teacher for a moment, with his round glasses and teacher posture. "Overwhelming them with your impressive litany of riddles?"

Luke frowned and then coughed, looking away. "Once," he muttered. The memory still made him wince.

"Another word of advice to you. Most people don't like to be confused, especially ones that thrive on physical prowess. They especially don't like it when you outsmart them - that I know from experience," Harry said and then grinned. "Besides, it's rude to ask a question and not let the person you're asking actually answer it."

Luke harrumphed at that, the fight draining from him completely. With another huff, he sat down beside the man again. "You're still annoying and I hate you," he muttered, folding his arms and looking away.

"Sure you do," the man answered, chuckling and taking his book again. "How many puzzles and riddles do you know anyway? And how the hell did you remember all of them?"

"I've lost count," Luke muttered, sighing. "Few hundred, I think. Riddles are easy, because they're mostly short." He frowned and then glanced at the man, almost expecting him to start criticise. Most adults did when they found out what Luke mostly studied. They always said it had no real life application, and that it wouldn't help him get a job in the future, or get married, or stuff like that. That he was wasting his time on useless things.

"That's pretty impressive," Harry said instead, weighing his book thoughtfully. "At your age I didn't know much anything." he lifted the book and, for no apparent reason, placed it on his head. "Well, I suppose I _still_ don't. Nothing that particularly matters anymore, anyway."

Luke eyed him for a moment as the man tilted his head back and forward and then from side to side, somehow managing to keep the book even on his head. "What are you doing?" he finally asked.

"Trying to remember if I know anything neat like you do," Harry answered. "I don't think I do. How disappointing."

"You must know something. Everyone is better at some things than others," Luke said. If _he_ could be better than _the Professor_ at something - namely, cooking and communicating with animals - then surely this man should be better than he was at _something_. "Maybe a school subject? Or a sport?" he suggested.

"Once, maybe. Not so much anymore," Harry answered, and shook his head - making the book atop his head tip over and fall. He caught it neatly in the palm of his hand without a pause. "Now days I'm just untalented no-name bum. Not that there aren't some benefits in that."

"You're pretty good at catching things," Luke noted, pointing at the book. "That counts for something, right?"

"Hm. Maybe," the man mused and then shook his head again. "It doesn't much matter, really. Just makes me very poor at showing off my talents, I guess," he said and then grinned. "Maybe I should start honing what I know and make it my talent. Like… being annoying."

"You don't need to hone that, you're already a master of the art," Luke muttered, tilting his head back and looking up to the sky. "Wonder what time it is?" he murmured. The Professor wouldn't be back before four o'clock, but Luke wanted to make sure he had enough time to prepare the dinner so that it would be ready when he did come back.

"Hmm," Harry answered, pulling out an old, beat up pocket watch from his pocket, and flipping it open. Luke leaned in to see what the time was, only to be completely baffled by the watch. It had twelve hands and instead of numbers, there were different sized and coloured balls in their place.

"Quarter past two," Harry said while the stared at the insane watch. The young man glanced at him and grinned. "Never seen a watch like this one, have you?"

"What the…? How can you read that thing?" Luke asked, taking the watch from the man's hand and tilting it to the side. "Wait, I see, there are actual hands hidden among the others that tell the actual time, and the rest is just there to distract you?" he asked, and then frowned as he saw that there wasn't a single hand near ball which sat on the number two's place, nor one near place where three should've been.

"Nope," the man answered, a little amused as he took the watch back. "There's no tricks, no optical illusions. It's just what it is. The question is, though, _what_ that is?" the man broke into a grin, weighing the old watch in his hand. "That's almost like a puzzle, isn't it? See if you can figure out how this watch tells the time."

"Let me see it again, I'll figure it out," Luke said, taking the watch back and examining it again with a serious frown. The balls were all in the same places as numbers would've been, so maybe those were just a fancy replacement for the numbers - there were some watches after all which didn't have numbers. But twelve hands, none of which pointed anywhere near the real time? Not to mention about the fact that they were all different colour and size and shape. They made the whole watch look like a mess.

Maybe it was a math trick, a different way of calculating time? It could've worked, except… not one of the hands seemed to be moving _at all_. It was like every hand in the watch counted hours. "I don't get it," Luke finally said, frowning. "Can you give me a hint?"

Harry smiled amusedly and thought about it. "Well… one of the hands makes one circle in twenty four hours," he said.

Luke glanced up and then frowned. Twenty four hours, so that was standard day. If the clock face was actually twenty four hour face and not twelve hour face, then that hand should've been at… well, near the spot for fourteen. So, that would be where seven in actual watch face was. Except it wasn't.

The man chuckled, when Luke looked up in accusation. "I never said that the count starts from the top," he said. "Another hint. Each hand on the clock has a matching ball."

Luke glanced down again, and immediately saw it. All the hands were marked with colours and shapes. Red ball, red hand, green ball, green hand, and so forth. Few of the hands and the balls were really intricate, one hand rings, other had odd lines in it. The prettiest by far were the silver and gold hands and balls, the golden one spiralling and whirling like flames or something.

"One of these tells Earth's day… wait, are these the planets? And the gold hand is for the Sun and the silver hand for the Moon," Luke muttered and then frowned, glancing up. "Isn't there one hand and ball too much?"

"No, not really. You're assuming that all the hands tell the same time, the day of a stellar object. Actually, only one hand tells that," Harry answered, taking the watch and pointing it. "It wouldn't be much use to know what day it is in Jupiter or Mars or so forth, so nine of these hands tells the year of a planet instead - Earth's year hand is here. Then we have three other hands. Earth's day hand, the lunar cycle hand, and solar cycle hand."

Luke blinked and eyed the man in shock. "You read the time by _planetary alignments_?" he asked, disbelieving.

Harry grinned, closing the watch. "Neat, isn't it?"

"It's unnecessarily complicated. Wouldn't it be simpler to get a watch that show time the _normal_ way?" the boy asked, eying him and wondering if the man was pulling his leg.

"Maybe for you. But you're assuming I _only_ use this to tell the minutes and days. I can see days, months and even years in this thing, though the calendar is a bit different from Gregorian, obviously," the young man answered, pushing the watch into his pocket. "It has many other uses than just telling the time, too. Astronomy, astrology, divination…"

Luke narrowed his eyes. "Divination? Really?" he asked suspiciously.

"If one is into that sort of thing, sure," the man grinned.

"I'm not buying it," the boy said after a moment of thought.

"Well, good, because I'm not selling it," Harry answered, grinning even wider. "It's one of a kind watch, and I am most definitely not giving it to some puzzle loving little brat who would never appreciate it."

"If it's a precious one of a kind item, why is it all banged up?" Luke asked with a snort.

"I got it second hand. Well, third hand if you get down to it," the man shrugged and took his book again. He used it to tap Luke almost admonishingly atop the head. "The preciousness of a thing is never in the monetary value or how good its state is, not really. A brand new watch might cost more, but your grandfather's old thing will still be more valuable. You little whippersnapper need to learn the sentimental value things can have."

"Yeah, yeah, sure," Luke muttered, rolling his eyes and jumped up from the bench to get away from the book. Harry shook the book mock threateningly, to which Luke stuck out his tongue. "Before Mt. Everest was discovered, what was the tallest mountain in the world?" he asked teasingly.

Harry raised eyebrows at that and then snorted. "Good try," he said and then made a shooing motion. "Get out of here, and go bother someone else with your incredible riddles, puzzle kid. I have more important things to do than play around with you."

"Like telling the time by planetary alignment?" Luke snorted, folding his arms, and then noticing the piece of paper sticking out from between the pages of the man's book. "How's the symbol puzzle coming along?" he asked curiously.

"Slowly, brat. Very slowly," the young man answered with a sigh and shooed him again. "Go away. You're keeping me from my research."

"Fine," the boy harrumphed and then pointed a finger at the man. "But next time we meet, you got to have a new puzzle for me! Otherwise I will never let you study in peace."

"Merlin, even your threats are cute," Harry muttered, grinning. "You're like a clumsy puppy. Get over here and let me pinch your cheeks, you've deserved it."

"No way, never," Luke said, jumping back. He stuck out his tongue. "You're still annoying and I hate you," he said, before turning to run away.

"I'm going to call you puzzle puppy from here on!" the man called after him amusedly.

"What was that? I can't hear you! Lalala -" Luke yelled back, covering his ears with his hands. He still could hear the man's laughter coming from behind him.

x

Luke pursed his lips thoughtfully, looking over the Professors study. If he didn't know the man as well as he did, he could've sworn he had gone out his way to make sure that the place was extra messy. The stack of papers between the bookshelf and the desk had fallen over, the book piles in the bottom shelf looked like they were about to tip over too, the desk was _covered_ in papers, books and by the looks of it every flat surface was decorated by specks of dust, of not a complete layer of them.

"Shouldn't a proper gentleman keep their work spaces clean?" he asked, glancing at the man standing beside him.

"I have been… busy," the man said with hint of defensiveness in his tone, looking faintly embarrassed about the state of things. "Though I admit, I have let it get a bit too far," he mused, reaching forward and swiping a finger across the surface of a near by drawer, where he kept his clean papers and other utensils. The move left a clean line in the layer of fine particles, and the tip of the man's finger dark with dirt. The man winced. "A little too far, yes."

Luke snorted, rolling up his sleeves. "Well, not for long. Gimme two hours and I'll have this place _gleaming_."

"I trust you will, my boy. Just… do not throw anything away," the man said worriedly. "All of the things here, however unnecessary and unimportant they may see, have a purpose."

"Yes, yes, I know, I'm not going to throw anything away without your say so," the boy said before pushing the man out of the room. "Now shoo, go drink tea or read a book or something. Can't work with you looming over me, Professor."

"Very well. I shall leave my study to your hands, then," Layton chuckled, turning to leave. "Call me if you require assistance."

"I won't need it," Luke promised, and closed the door behind the Professor, sealing himself in with the daunting task of cleaning the messy office. It was nothing he couldn't handle though, so he merely took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and got to work.

There was something actually pretty fun about cleaning the place, he mused while stacking books and papers aside so that he could wipe the table and the bookshelves. After all, it was the _Professor's_ study, so it was a bit exciting to be pocking around the place. Especially since there was a big possibility that he would run into puzzle designs - or fully complete puzzles. So, humming to himself, he threw himself at the task with vigour, already anticipating a surprise or two.

He managed to rearrange the desk and stack all the books and papers neatly, and get to the middle of the bookshelf before running into the first hidden puzzle. It was written and drawn on a piece of paper, sticking out between two books. Eagerly, he read through it, before eying the picture of a wood plank drawn to the bottom of the table with the Professor's steady hand. "Ten Picarat puzzle!" read in the top, above the puzzle itself. "A busy carpenter, in rush to get as much work done as possible, has to cut a heavy ten foot plank into ten equal sections. If it takes him one minute per cut, how long will it take him to get ten equal pieces?"

"Heh," the boy murmured, snatching a pencil from the table and quickly scribbling the answer. "That was easy one, Professor," he said, and after placing the paper to the table he continued on the work. Thorough the course from the book shelf to the cabinet and then over to the drawer, he ran into another hidden puzzle - a riddle this time. After moment of thinking about it - what is round as a plate, deep as a tub and still the oceans couldn't fill it up? - he scribbled his answer down to them before continuing on the cleaning.

He was just about finished with the furniture and all the flat surfaces, when the Professor peeked in. "How is it going, my boy?" he asked, taking in the re-arranged book shelf and desk.

"I was just about to get the mop," Luke answered, grinning and handing the completed puzzles to the man. "I believe this makes the tally with two hundred and twenty nine on your side, and two hundred and seventeen on mine," he said, preening slightly.

Layton took the papers and glanced over them. "Well done. You're catching up," the man said. "However, the answer to the riddle is not plumbing," he added. "So you only have two hundred and seven Picarats."

"What? Aww," Luke muttered, taking the riddle paper and looking over it again. "Can't be a sink either, sinks aren't round and they can be plugged. Hmm… Well, I'll think it through later," he said, stuffing the paper into his pocket. "Now I am going to mop the floor."

"As you wish," the Professor said, smiling while pulling out his pocket watch and opening it. "However, perhaps you wouldn't be against taking a break? It's time for some afternoon tea, you know."

"It is?" Luke asked, glancing at the watch. "It is. Well, I guess could take a break," he said, stretching his arms and eying the pocket watch thoughtfully. It was a normal one with numbers from one to twelve and two hands. "Did I tell you about the weird watch Harry had, Professor?" he asked.

"The fellow who gave you an advice about your school mates?" Layton asked, putting his watch away as they made their way to the kitchen.

"Yeah, I met him again in the park. He was really annoying, kept teasing me," the boy said, frowning in annoyance. "But he had this pocket watch. It had twelve hands and planets instead of numbers in the face," he said, thinking back to it and folding his arms. "He said that had hands for planet years, plus Earth's day and the lunar and solar cycles. And still he used it to tell the time accurately. Do you think that is possible, Professor?"

"Hmm…" the man hummed while putting the water to boil. "Well, I am no astronomy specialist, but I imagine that with right calculations and knowledge of the movement and alignment of the planetary bodies, I suppose that something like that could be achieved. I would not know where to even begin making such calculations, however."

"Harry didn't, he just looked at it and told the time without a second thought," Luke murmured. "I think he was cheating, really. With the one hand that made one circle around the clock in twenty four hours, he could use that to tell the hour and then approximately guess the minutes."

"I suspect that telling the time is not what that sort of watch was made for," the Professor said thoughtfully. "It seems rather elaborate for something that could be achieved in simpler methods."

"Yeah, I said that too. He said that it could be used with astronomy and astrology and… divination," the boy said, making a face. Then he straightened his back as a realisation hit him. "Hey, maybe he is studying astronomy. How else could he understand a watch like that?"

"You might very well be right, my boy," the Professor mused with a smile. "Could you get the cups, my boy?"

Luke did, setting the cups to the table along with the plates and the spoons, and went about getting some snacks as well, while the Professor mixed the tea. Soon the pair of them were sitting down, with the Professor pouring the tea.

"It looks like it is going to rain," Layton mused whole sitting down. He was looking out of the window, where they could see the rain clouds hanging low above the city. "I do not think that today is a good day to get that ice cream you demanded, my boy. How about tomorrow? Unless it rains then too, of course."

"Hmm," Luke hummed, peering outside. "Yeah, alright. I wouldn't want to eat ice cream on a rainy day anyway - ruins the taste," he mused, turning to his tea and stirring it slightly. He took a careful sip before making a thoughtful noise and reaching for the sugar, feeling slightly guilty as he did. He didn't want to say it out loud, but the Professor's preferred tea type was a bit too bitter for his tastes.

Layton, however, didn't seem to disapprove and merely smiled. "There was a new booth near the park that sells ice-cream, right? Perhaps we shall visit it tomorrow and test their collection," the man mused, lifting his cup and inhaling the scent of the tea. "I could use a day outdoors. I mean no offence to the university, but spending so much time inside does get a tad… wearisome."

Luke grinned, happy to hear that the Professor wasn't happy being grounded either. "We shall go to the park, then!" he said, adding another spoonful of sugar to his tea. Layton gave him a look - it was the fourth spoonful - so he quickly pushed the sugar bowl away and stirred his tea, grinning sheepishly. "Maybe we will see Harry there," he said. "In the park, I mean. You could see the watch yourself. The thing was weird."

"Now, now, Luke, let's not be rude. I'm sure the watch is no oddity to him, and a gentleman should not enforce his own values on others," the Professor mused, reaching for a pastry. "Though I admit, it does seem curious. I wouldn't mind seeing a watch like that."

Luke grinned, happy have brought something perhaps exciting to the Professor's attention, and sipped his tea. He just hoped tomorrow would be a sunny day.

x

Ohmaigawd, first! Yay, I get to be an internet troll on a whole fanfiction _section_. How epic. In celebration; a quick update. And riddles and even few logic puzzles. I'm going to have a lot of them in this story. I'm not going to put the answers to most of them into the story or in the author's notes in case someone wants to try to figure them out on their own, but as I foind them all in the internet, with little digging you can find the answers if you really care to bother. My apologies for the possible grammar errors and such. :) And thanks for the comments, it's awesome to see so many other people who know/play/are infuriated by the games.


	3. Ice cream and scones

**III chapter**

**Ice cream and scones  
**

"He who has it doesn't tell it. He who takes it doesn't know it. He who knows it doesn't want it. What is it?" the Professor repeated while waiting for the line to move.

Luke, who was standing a step ahead of him and anxiously waiting for his chance to try the ice-cream selection, frowned and turned his eyes downwards, trying to figure the riddle out. When the Professor opened his mouth to give a hint, the boy made a motion with his hand to stop him. "Wait, wait, I know this, I've heard this one before somewhere. Just give me a moment, alright Professor?" he said, brushing his lips with his hand thoughtfully, an unconscious habit he had picked from the Professor.

"Take as long as you wish, my boy," the man said, faint smile on his lips. "It is most likely you might've read about this one from one of my books. It's a rather old, classic riddle."

"Hm-hmm," Luke nodded in rather distracted answer, reciting the lines of the riddle in his head while trying to work it out. As he did, the line moved along, until they were at the booth and the Professor had to nudge his shoulder to bring his attention back to the present - and to the selection of ice creams displayed on the booth's side.

"I want chocolate and strawberry with sprinkles, please!" Luke said after looking over the flavour list.

"Plain vanilla for me," the Professor said, and after the sale's person quickly filled their orders, he paid for the cones. After handing Luke his ice-cream, he nudged the boy to the side so that they wouldn't be in the way of others looking to get their ice cream. "Shall we sit down, my boy?" he asked, motioning towards benches near by.

"Sure," the boy said, turning the ice-cream his hand and smiling with satisfaction. Just perfect amount of ice-cream - unlike in some places where they made the ice cream balls way too small. "Hmm, the riddle. Can't be a secret, or bad news, hmm… Can you give me a hint?" he asked, as they sat down to a park bench to enjoy the treats.

"Alright," the Professor said, testing the ice cream and smiling. "It is something material."

"Oh," the boy murmured, leaning back and frowning. "Hmm…"

The Professor smiled, saying nothing as the boy tried to solve the riddle. Instead he concentrated onto the ice cream and enjoying the fresh air. Luke spent a moment in silence, trying to figure the riddle out, before giving up with a sigh, and instead taking a huge bite from his treat.

"I'll try solving it later," he mumbled through the mouthful.

"Luke, it is atrocious manners to speak when your mouth is full," Layton said with a fond smile. "I can tell you another one, if you would like."

"Maybe later, Professor. Let me eat my ice cream first," the boy said. It was hard to enjoy the ice cream fullest when his mind was pre-occupied with a puzzle, though he wouldn't say _that_ to the Professor. Though the man probably already knew - he very rarely mixed tea and puzzles together if he could avoid it.

The Professor was the first to finish his ice cream, mostly because his was much smaller, and whilst Luke ate the rest of his, the man stood up and stretched his arms slightly. "We are lucky that the day dawned so beautiful," the man murmured, glancing up to the sky from under the brim of his hat. Luke glanced up as well and hummed in agreement. It was a little cloudy, but at least it didn't seem like it was going to rain.

The boy sighed. It would've been the perfect day to work on a case or solve some mystery. Even a little one. But the Scotland Yard hadn't needed the Professor's help in a while and they hadn't gotten any requests in weeks. Of course, it meant that nothing bad or puzzling had happened - and in a way that was obviously good - but Luke couldn't help but think how boring it was too. It wasn't exiting at all, just going by life day by day without mysteries and such.

"Shall we take a walk, Luke?" the Professor interrupted his thoughts, making the boy realise he had eaten his ice cream already, and not even noticed it. With nod and a sigh, the boy jumped to his feet, rubbing his hands together to get the waffle crumbs off.

"Do you think peaceful times are boring, Professor?" he asked as they set out to follow the paths towards the duck pond's direction.

"Boring? I wouldn't quite say so. There is always something to keep your mind and hands occupied," the man answered with another fond smile, apparently knowing where the question had came from. "It's easier for me to work when there is peace too, obviously. Archaeology is not something you can do in a rush. But, I suppose that it is true we haven't seen much excitement in a while," he added.

"Mm," Luke hummed, crossing his hands behind his neck and peering up to the sky. "It would be nice to have a case."

"A case, my boy? You make it sound like what we do is detective work," Layton chuckled. "I've told you time and time again; I am no detective."

"Rose by any other name, Professor," the boy said calmly.

The man smiled amusedly at him. "If you are so bored, perhaps I should make more puzzles for you to preoccupy yourself with," he said. "How about this one? There were five men going to church, and it started to rain. The four that ran got wet and the one that stood still stayed dry," he said. "Now how do you suppose that is possible?

"One had umbrella?" Luke asked unsurely.

"Not quite," the Professor chuckled. "Another one, perhaps? It goes with a carriage, it comes with a carriage, it is no use to a carriage - and yet the carriage cannot go without it. What is it?"

"Aww, Professor, don't give me a new riddle when I haven't solved the previous one!" the boy muttered,

"If a snail crawls halfway around a circle and then turns around and crawls half way back, does it get back to where it started?" Layton asked, eyes twinkling as Luke stomped his foot in impatience. "Now, now, Luke. Gentleman should not lose his patience.

"Gentleman shouldn't tease others either," the boy complained, folding his arms. "Uh, if as snail crawls halfway around the circle and then halfway back…"

"If you throw a stick, will puzzle puppy fetch it?" an amused voice asked from behind them, making Luke whirl around. This time, unlike in the last encounter, he was almost prepared and could point accusing finger at the amused Harry Potter without almost falling over. The man smiled over the open book he was holding. "Hello, puzzle puppy."

"You!" the boy growled. "Stop calling me that! My name is Luke! And it's rude to interrupt others when they are in middle of a discussion."

"The opportunity to butt in was just too perfect," Harry answered and, after glancing down to the accusing finger, grinned. Before Luke managed to pull his back, the man lowered the book and then snapped it shut - right around the pointing finger. "Besides," the man said while Luke let out a yelp of surprise. "I think we already covered that I'm not all that polite, didn't we?" he added, grinning as the boy hurriedly pulled his hand back.

"You're annoying," Luke muttered, shaking his hand and examining his finger worriedly. Then he remembered that Layton was there, and quickly looked up. "Professor, this is the man I told you about."

"I see," Layton murmured, eying the younger man like he wasn't quite sure what to make of him. "Pardon me, I'm Professor Hershel Layton. Luke is my -"

"Apprentice," Luke cut in, pointing at Harry - whilst keeping his hand at a safe distance from the book. "And the Professor is thousands times nicer and more incredible than you are. So there."

Harry smiled rather amusedly at that, looking like he was just barely keeping himself from laughing. "Is that so? And he teaches you what, how to look absolutely adorable when flustered?" he asked, tucking the book beneath his arm. He turned to look at the Professor, and grinned at the baffled look the man gave him. "Apparently yes," he laughed, and held his hand out. "The name's Harry Potter, Professor. It's frankly rather amusing to meet you."

"Yes, rather," the Professor murmured, shaking the man's hand. He coughed rather awkwardly when the other man just kept on grinning mirthfully at him. "I hear you've given Luke some advice?"

"Just few words of controversial wisdom," Harry shrugged his shoulders. "Nothing major."

"Yeah, it probably won't even work," Luke muttered and stuck out his tongue when the young man gave him a look.

"Luke, do try to behave -" Layton stared, and stopped when Harry, in spectacular show of his complete lack of maturity, stuck his tongue as well. "Ah," the Professor muttered and sighed, looking completely out of his depth. "In any case, if your advice helps him solve the problems he has with his school mates, then I at least am very grateful for it."

"That's alright. It wasn't like it was a hardship to give it," Harry answered and soundly tapped Luke atop the head with his book. "Some cat's gonna steal your tongue that way, kid."

"No they won't - and don't act all high and mighty, you're acting like a kid too," Luke said back, pushing the man's hand, along with the book, away. "You're embarrassing the Professor."

"Oh I am? And what about you then?" the young man answered, pushing his spectacles higher up his nose. "I suppose he's just brimming with pride about the way you behave, isn't he?"

The Professor cleared his throat before Luke could answer, and smiled rather weakly at the younger man. "Are you a student perhaps, Mr. Potter?" he asked in obvious attempt at distraction, motioning at the book in the other's hand.

"No, not really. And Harry's fine, please. I haven't been Mr. Potter since I left school, thank Merlin," Harry answered and glanced at the book. "I'm just researching things," he added dismissively and pushed the book to his bag and out of the sight. "I guess you would be a teacher, then, being a Professor and all?" he asked.

"Yes. I teach in the Gressenheller University," the Professor agreed, odd look about his face all of sudden.

"Good job?" Harry asked.

"I enjoy it, yes," Layton nodded politely

"Hey, Harry, show Professor that watch of yours," Luke said, tugging on the young man's shirt hem. "He can figure out if you're cheating while telling the time with it."

"How can you cheat while telling the time?" Harry asked amusedly, even whilst pulling the watch out and unclasping it from the chain that kept it attached to his trousers. "You look at a watch, and it tells the time to you. Which is what I do. How can you cheat with that?"

"It's cheating if there is a trick and you're _not_ telling it with all the twelve hands," Luke said folding his arms.

"I don't need all the hands for that. They got different purposes," the young man answered, shaking his head and holding the watch out for the curious Professor. "Like telling the date, the Earth's relative location in the solar system in comparison to Jupiter, when we're going to have a solar eclipse, and when to avoid redheads. Stuff like that."

"Redheads?" Luke asked with disbelief while Layton took the watch and clicked it open, examining the clock face curiously.

"They get feisty when the planets are aligned just right," Harry answered with completely serious face.

"Liar," the boy snapped. "Stop pulling my leg."

"Why should I when you make it so easy, puzzle puppy?" the man grinned, reaching out and pulling Luke's hat askew. While the boy growled and straightened the hat, the man glanced at the Professor, who was humming thoughtfully. "So, what do you think, Professor?"

"The design of this is incredible. If all the hands really accurately follow the planets… I would like to see how the mechanics of this sort of watch go, they must be impossibly intricate to be able to spin all twelve hands. However did you come across this marvellous watch?" Layton asked, turning the watch in his hand. "It looks rather aged."

"And beaten up, I know. It was a birthday gift," Harry shrugged, taking the watch back and closing the lid before clasping it back to the chain. "It belonged to my friend's uncle - and apparently that guy wasn't too careful with his belongings. But it still works well enough, so it's fine by me," he added and pushed the peculiar watch to his pocket.

"To be able to read such a watch, you must be very familiar with astrology," the Professor mused thoughtfully.

"I know a thing or two about it, maybe," Harry answered.

"If you don't mind me asking Mr… Harry, what is it that you do for living?" Layton asked, and Luke leaned closer curiously. He had seriously thought that Harry was a student or something like that, but if he wasn't then he must work somewhere. What occupation could an annoying bloke like this have?"

The young man smiled crookedly. "This and that," he said rather vaguely. "Nothing particularly marvellous."

"The Professor helps the _Scotland yard_," Luke said, not much caring for the false mystery the man was trying to spin around himself. "He helps them solve serious cases. Like robberies and murders."

"Luke," Layton said with faint admonishing note in his voice. Luke huffed in answer and shut up, not feeling particularly guilty. Because it was true and it made the Professor dozen times more important - and mysterious - than Harry was.

"Does he now?" Harry asked with a grin. "Solve mysteries for the police, now that is something special." The man chuckled and then let out a sound of realisation. "Oh, speaking of solving things, I have something for you, puzzle puppy. I almost forgot about it," he murmured, pulling out a notebook from his bag, and opening it. He leafed through it for a moment, before taking a piece of paper and handing it to Luke to show a puzzle written the left side, and drawing sketched onto the other. "The puzzle you demanded," the young man said, closing the notebook.

"You really made me a puzzle?" Luke asked suspiciously while accepting the paper. Sure, he had demanded one, but he hadn't really been serious. Frowning slightly, he turned his attention to the sheet of paper and eyed the sketch of seven different sized bottles drawn in a row.

"A puzzle?" the Professor asked curiously.

"Yeah, the brat asked for one," Harry said, folding his arms. "I didn't invent it or anything, so don't get your hopes up. I had to change it a little - the original would be bit too difficult to understand without knowing the circumstances."

"I'm not a brat," Luke frowned, and then read out loud from the paper: "One among the seven has a fruity taste, another has flavour rather berry based, two among the rest hold very bitter wine, and three are vinegar, hidden in line," he read, frowning. "But though cleverly the vinegar tries to hide, you will always find some on wine's left side. Different are the two at line's furthermost sides, but if you prefer fruits, don't just yet decide. As you can, all are different size; neither dwarf nor giant has vinegar inside. The second left and the second on the right are twins in taste, though different at first sight."

"Marvellous rhyming," the Professor congratulated, leaning closer to take a look at the sketch.

"Well, I can't take credit for it. A teacher I had some years back made the puzzle, not me. I just… edited it," Harry answered, pushing his hands to his pockets and shrugging. "A friend of mine must've kept the original riddle or something and given it to me. I had forgotten the whole thing before I ran into the original rhyme."

"Your teacher must've been interesting person, to have come up with such a puzzle," Layton murmured, while Luke tried to figure what bottle contained what.

Harry snorted. "Yeah, he certainly was that," he mused, shaking his head. "Well, I'll leave you to it," he said. "I have some research to do and I can't get any reading done standing around waiting puzzle puppy solve some puzzles."

"Stop calling me that," Luke snapped, glancing up. "My name is _Luke_."

"Puzzle puppy suits you well enough," the young man grinned and glanced at Layton. "It was nice meeting you, Professor. Don't let the puppy wear you out."

"I would never -" Luke started, but was stopped when the Professor placed hand on his shoulder.

"I shall try and keep a strong fort," Layton answered, now seeming more amused than confused by the young man's more casual manner much to Luke's horror. "It was… interesting meeting you as well, Harry."

"I'm sure it was," the young man answered, grinning even wider. "Have fun with the puzzle. See you around, you two," he then said before turning to walk away, probably to look for a spot where he could read in peace.

"Isn't that guy annoying or what, Professor?" Luke asked, looking up to the man. "He's so arrogant!"

"Arrogant? No, I wouldn't call him arrogant. Informal and borderline rudely casual, perhaps, but not arrogant," Layton said, stroking his fingers over his chin in thought. "I wonder thought, if he is quite alright."

Luke frowned. Alright? "What do you mean?" he asked, confused.

The man glanced at him and smiled gently. "Perhaps you have not yet learned to take in the nuances of a person's appearance and hints in their behaviour," he mused, looking up and after Harry again. "But I do believe that young man is either severely insomniac, or at least staying up until very late hours of the night. He has a pallid look about his face and deep shadows under his eyes."

Luke blinked and then looked to the direction Harry had gone before vanishing somewhere behind the trees that stood in a neat row at the corner of the walkway. "I guess I didn't notice," he murmured. The glasses had blocked the view so he hadn't really seen the shadows and if he had noticed the paleness, he hadn't though anything about it. Harry certainly had not once _acted_ like he was tired or sick. "Well, with his behaviour, he can't be sick, right?"

"Some men, my boy, will show you nothing but a laugh and a smile, even when they're on the brink of collapse," Layton murmured before shaking his head, and looking down to him with a smile. "Well then, I believe we were meant to have a walk, was it?"

"Yes!" Luke agreed, and as they set out the path they had originally intended to take. While walking, he looked down to the puzzle. "Harry can't be working that hard," he then said. "Since he had the time to make me this."

"Mm. Perhaps," the Professor said, though he didn't sound like he completely agreed. "Well, in any case, you should try and solve the puzzle, since he went through the trouble of making it for you."

"Editing it. He didn't make it," Luke said, but lifted the paper again and read through the rhyme once more.

x

"Hmm… I guess my understanding over mechanics isn't good enough," the Professor was murmuring to himself when Luke peeked into his office later that day to ask if the man would mind if he would make some scones. The boy blinked with surprise - Hershel Layton wasn't the sort of man who talked to himself.

"Professor?" he asked carefully, stepping further into the study. "Is there something the matter?"

"Mm, no, I suppose not," the man answered, leaning back on his chair and running his hand over his eyes. "I decided to try and figure out how the mechanism of Harry Potter's watch would have to go in order for it to work. But the gears needed for all twelve hands simply won't fit the assorted space in any way I can figure out."

"Maybe they're really small in his watch?" the boy asked, peeking over the man's shoulder to see the sketches he had been drawing. He had several sheets spread across the table, all drawn more or less full of designs. The boy smothered a grin - he sometimes forgot how good the Professor could be with machinery. When the man could some times be the very personification of eccentric archaeology Professor, it was easy to fall into the misconception that the man knew very little of modern technology. But then, putting together a machine was probably nothing but a big, more complicated puzzle for the man. _And_ there was the fact that they never had to take the Laytonmobile to the repair shop.

"No, I do not think that it is. There is a limit to how small you can make a cogwheel, my boy," the Professor sighed. "How ever it is very likely that the mechanics of the watch are laid differently in the watch to make them fit. It would take masterful engineer to manage it, though, no doubt."

"Well, Harry did say it was one of a kind," Luke said. "It might be that someone managed to make it, but it's the only one that exists because they couldn't do it again?"

"Hmm," Layton just hummed, taking one of the sheets and looking it more closely. Then he glanced at Luke, who was leaning so close that his chin as almost on the Professor's shoulder. "Was there something you wanted, my boy?" he asked, amused.

"Oh, right. I was thinking of baking some scones - unless you have something against it," Luke said, quickly straightening his back even whilst keeping on eying the drawings. "Don't tell me you want a watch like that too, Professor?"

"No, I'm afraid I would be no good at reading it. However, the design intrigues me," the man said, smiling. "But of course, you may bake whatever you choose, my boy. It is _your_ kitchen, more or less."

Luke shrugged. "You might've had something else planned and then I would've messed up your plans," he shrugged and glanced at the drawings again. He grinned. "Maybe you should see if you can buy some watch parts, Professor, and see if you can build one that works like Harry's watch does," he suggested, knowing that the man usually managed to figure these sort of things out if he had something concrete to touch and work with.

"Mm. Perhaps. For now I think I shall resort to less expensive methods," the man answered and reached for his pencil. "Do call me if you need any help, my boy."

"Will do, Professor," Luke said, recognising the dismissal. "Enjoy your puzzle," he said as a way of parting, and then headed out of the room and to the kitchen. Thinking the puzzle of the watch and its owner, he got to work, flipping the oven on before starting to get the ingredients.

The watch could be useful with astronomy, that he could easily understand, and it was obviously very complicated machine. But Harry had kept throwing his ridiculous allusions to things like astrology and divination. Luke had met fortune tellers before, even few crackpots who believed in magic, but Harry hadn't spoken about them like that, he had said it all like he actually believed it.

Wondering whether the man was a little loose screwed in the head or if he was just a dang good liar, the boy got into work and started mixing the ingredients. Like usually he made two different batches of the scones - chocolate chip ones for himself and walnut raising ones for the Professor - knowing that if he made just one batch, only one would eat them. Though, he supposed he could've made just plain ones, but neither one of them really liked them as much.

Soon enough he had first batch of them in the oven. He counted that would take only few minutes for the Professor to venture out of his study, lured by the smell of the fresh bakeries, so, hiding his grin, he put some water to boil and prepared some tea for the man. And, like clockwork, Layton was soon joining him the kitchen already anticipating the freshly baked pastries.

"Little too early, Professor," Luke said. "Ten minutes until I take them out of the oven."

The Professor gave him a look before noticing the kettle that was sitting on the stove. He smiled. "I think you know me too well, my boy," he said while stepping forward to get the cups.

Luke smothered the urge to preen, and instead crouched beside the oven the take a look at the scones. It looked like he had gotten the dough about right - they weren't running and getting attached to each other like the last time. Or swelling out of proportion like the time before that. "Did you work the watch out, then?" he asked.

"Not quite. I think I shall bring the subject up with Professor Lane. He might have a better idea how the watch might have been made," Layton said, fetching the sugar and the tea bowl.

"Maybe I should ask Harry if he knows how it was made the next time I see him. He might know," Luke mused, scratching the back of his head. "He seems to be in the park a lot and since I walk through it on my way to school…" he would have to hand over the puzzle the man had given anyhow. He had solved it, though it had taken the Professor's help. Still. It wouldn't _feel_ solved until he heard it from the puzzle's maker himself. Or it's editor, anyway.

"That is quite alright, my boy. I believe I want to solve this one on my own - I wouldn't feel quite as accomplished if I merely heard the answer and did not work it out myself," the Professor said, sitting down by the kitchen table to mix the tea. "You should know the feeling yourself, Luke."

"Mm-hmm, I do," the boy agreed, and smiled. "Hey Professor. There are five scones on the table. If you take two of them, how many do you have?"

"Two, my boy. There will be three of them on the table, but _I_ will have two," the man answered without looking up. "What eight letter word contains only one letter?"

Luke thought about it for a moment and then smiled. "Envelope," he answered while the kettle on the stove started to whistle. "What room has no door, no windows, no floor and no roof?"

Layton chuckled. "A mushroom," he said, getting up to get the kettle. He smiled at Luke's disappointed sigh - the boy had hoped it would take the man at least a moment to tell that one - and asked, "What it is that you should always keep - because no one else wants it?"

"Your temper - you've told me that one before," Luke said, and gave the man sideways look. When Layton had told it to him the first time, it had been not much after Luke had gotten to fight at school. "What is it that everyone on Earth is doing at the same time?"

"Growing older - and you only make my point with a reply like that, my boy," Layton chuckled while pouring the boiling water into the tea kettle, the words making the boy grin. "I think I see why Harry Potter seemed to enjoy rise out of you, my boy, it does seem somewhat fun."

"Don't tease me, Professor. Now I'm going to have nightmares about you developing that jerk's personality," Luke moaned with a shudder. The Professor ought to be nothing but the perfect of all gentleman. The mere idea of him being like Harry Potter was… actually rather terrifying. "Maybe you should stop working with that watch dilemma, Professor. It seems to be doing worrisome things to your head."

"Now now, Luke, no need to be rude," the man answered amusedly while finishing the tea and letting it seep. "What can you never see, even though it's always ahead you?" the man asked.

"The future," Luke answered, while reaching for the oven mittens. "And I see some scones in ours."

"A fairly splendid future to see."

x

This chapter didn't come out quite like I planned. Harry came out sounding like he's flirting with the poor Professor. And I think I'm twisting Layton's and Luke's relationship a bit - they're less like a teacher and his fan-boy assistant, and more like (rather quirky) father and son. But I guess I like them like that. In other news, I saw Professor Layton and the Eternal Diva today. Fanspasms were induced, hence another quick update. My apologies for grammar errors and thanks to ViperDaisy for pointing out some mistakes in the last chapter.


	4. Run down

**IV chapter**

**Run down**

Luke didn't see Harry for almost another month, but though the long break was curious, he didn't think much of it in the end. Three meetings might make an acquaintance, but not a close friend, and even if he had gotten worried or curious about it, there was little he could do about it as he knew, well, next to nothing about the man except for few of his habits and his quirky personality. He wouldn't have even known where to begin to look for the man. In the end, he dismissed the whole thing thinking that Harry had probably gotten a new job, or had had to leave the town to see to sick relative, or something like that, and that was that.

In that month, the Professor puzzled over the watch every now and then and never really did manage to work it out - he even bought some spare watch parts and few half broken time pieces to try and make a watch like that, but the most he got was six working hands before the gears got too many to fit into the watch itself. Aside from that, Harry was more or less forgotten in their house hold as yet another meeting that had came and gone and would most likely end there. In London, where people were so plenteous, it was nothing new.

Autumn turned colder as the time went, and more rainy. Luke started hauling his umbrella with him almost all times, and changed his shoes into rubber boots. He was picked a bit because of the boots - they were apparently odd colour and not dark blue like the other boy's boots were - but he didn't much care. Ignoring his bullies had, surprisingly enough, worked more or less and the picking on wasn't anywhere as bad as it had once been.

It was one of those cold autumn days when it was gusting and there was that sort of thin rain in the air, the kind you couldn't see but you felt on your face when the wind threw it at you. While cursing the weather and wishing he was just home already, Luke clutched onto his umbrella and braved his way through the windy park, empty and abandoned by the people who sometimes could be seen there enjoying the scenery. But then, with weather like that, there was no scenery to be enjoyed, really.

Once he would get home, he would fix himself a cup of hot chocolate, he though to himself. Either that or some tea - something sweet and sugary, maybe with a dash of milk. Something that would warm him up, in any case. He would have a pot of tea ready for the Professor too when he came back, aside from the dinner of course. With the weather like this, everyone could use little bit of extra.

While trying to avoid one especially harsh gust of wind by angling the umbrella between it and his face, Luke almost missed the sound of harsh coughing coming from near by. Even then he ignored it as just another passer by who had caught the flu that was running amok through the city - until the coughing gained a very strange tone. Not a painful one or the sort of hacking he could sometimes hear. No, this one was like laughter - like the person was laughing through the bout of coughs.

Curious, Luke glanced up and then around to see where the sound was coming. Not the benches, nor either end of the walkway. Instead, it was coming from the duck pond, where a man was standing by the water - wearing entirely too little for the weather. Luke frowned a little at the man's jumper - any reasonable person would've worn a coat at least, something to protect them from the rain - before he realised he recognised the black, spiky hair, even in its soggy state. And when the man tilted his head up to peer up to the sky, Luke could see the black rimmed glasses.

"Harry?" he asked unsurely, for the first time noticing the man before he noticed him. The man glanced at him over his shoulder and tried to smile - only get the expression broken by another bought of harsh coughs.

"Ah, sorry about that, puzzle kid. Seems like I caught a cold," the man said in a slightly wheezy voice and laughed for some odd reason at that, like it was the most amusing thing ever. "But anyway, long time no see. How have you been? Still full or riddles?" Again he laughed.

"What are you _doing_?" Luke asked with disbelief, stepping forward before thinking it through. "Standing around in this godforsaken weather - wearing _that_? And while you're sick on top of everything? You're going to catch your death like this!"

"Ahh, maybe," the man answered, running his hand over his face and pushing his wet hair up and away from his glasses. There was a scar on his forehead, but Luke didn't care about that as much as he cared about the fact that the man was flushed with fever. "At this point it makes little difference, though," Harry added, and laughed again, an odd, harsh, _empty_ laugh.

"What are you talking about?" the boy asked while reaching to touch the man's hand. It felt hot to his touch. "You have a fever! You should go inside, and get yourself out of those soggy clothes - get yourself warmed up! Really, you're going to get pneumonia like this!" he admonished in near horror. He hadn't _ever_ known anyone stupid enough to go out while it was raining when they were sick. "It's like you're trying to get yourself killed!"

"Maybe I am," the man mused, and suddenly wavered, fighting with his balance for a moment before giving up and falling to sit on the ground. He groaned faintly, touching his forehead. "You wouldn't believe the headache I'm having."

"No, I believe you," Luke answered with a snort. The man _looked_ miserable so it wasn't exactly stretch of imagination to think he probably was miserable too. With a sigh, the boy stepped closer and touched the man's forehead. It was even hotter than his hand was. "You really need to get inside and out of this rain," he muttered worriedly. "You're making it worse."

"Aah, but it feels better here," the man objected with a weak smile. "I'm not quite so -" he broke off to sneeze and then sniffle. "Not quite so hot, here," he finished and stared coughing again. "Good place as any to stay, really."

"Are you _insane_?" Luke asked slowly, and when the man didn't answer he was standing to think that yes, yes he was, completely insane. Either that, or the fever was making his head all fuzzy. "Tell you what," the boy said, deciding that a proper gentleman always took care of those in need. "You'll tell me where you live, and I'll help you get there. Then you will get a hot bath, something hot to drink and then you get yourself into a bed and you stay there until you get better."

Harry laughed at that, wincing slightly. "That's not a good idea," he muttered. "Better not."

"You're going to get yourself killed like this!" Luke snapped and tried to drag the man to his feet. "Come on now, to home we go. _Come on_ Harry!"

"I don't wanna," the man murmured. "That place is cold and empty and Kreacher hates me again," he sighed, his head falling. "Won't believe it wasn't my fault."

"Kreacher?" Luke muttered and then shook his head. It didn't matter. "You need to get out of this rain, Harry."

The man took a deep breath and sighed again. "Fine. There was a pavilion somewhere here, right? Just help me there and -"

"No, you need to get _indoors_ and _warm_," Luke snapped. The pavilion, really, was the man idiot? It wouldn't be any warmer there than it was here - less rainy, but that would make next to no difference thanks to the fact the man was probably soaked to the bone. "Alright, that's it, I've had it with you," he said and quickly pulled the umbrella shut

"Alright," Harry smiled and reached clumsy hand to try and ruffle Luke's hair. It didn't quite reach. "You just leave me here puzzle pup, and -"

"No. You're coming with me to the Professor's house," the boy said after pushing the umbrella to his backpack and with strength he could only manage because it was probably the man's life on the line here, he pulled the man up and to his slightly shaking feet. "The Professor won't mind. Come on, now."

"I wouldn't want to impose," the man mumbled, wavering again now that he was on his feet. He shivered and sneezed - which then led the way to another bout of coughing.

"And you don't think you're not imposing on people if you drop dead here?" Luke asked. He would've stomped his foot at the man's stupidity, but he was little too busy trying to keep the man standing. "What about that Kreacher of yours, won't he care if you die?"

"He'd do a jig on my grave," Harry laughed weakly and then frowned. "He'd get in trouble," he then muttered.

"Dancing on someone's grave? Yeah, I bet he would," Luke snorted and started hauling the man towards the Professor's apartment. "Come on, Harry, work with me a little. You have legs, use them."

"Sorry, sorry," the man coughed, and did as asked - almost sending the two of them to the ground by stumbling. "Sorry," he murmured again weakly. "I didn't mean to. Wasn't my fault," he added nonsensically. "Trying to fix it, but I'm not good at that sort of stuff. Hermione could've, but… but she's not here. No-one's here…"

Luke winced in near horror when he heard a sound from the man that sounded suspiciously like a sob. "Come on," he mumbled, trying to speed up their steps, hoping that the man wouldn't get completely delirious before they got there. "We'll get you inside in no time at all, and then you will get better. Then you will have another go at fixing… whatever you were trying to fix."

"Yeah. Got to do more research," the man sighed morosely. "Not really good at that either. Doesn't help that -" he broke to coughs again and with another wince, Luke tried to keep him up and standing through them. "Sorry," the man mumbled again.

"Just come on. Concentrate onto walking," the boy said and determinately continued making the slow way home. Harry stumbled and mumbled nonsensical things almost the whole way, falling twice and getting himself even more wet - not that it mattered much at this point, considering that the man was already soaked through. Eventually they made it, though, and bypassing the usual routine of checking the mail, Luke opened the door and ushered the man inside.

"First things first, hot bath for you," he said and after getting his coat and boots of, he helped the slightly delirious man out of his own foot wear before ushering him to the bathroom. Harry, a little too out of it to make coherent objections, soon found himself sitting on the edge of the bathtub while Luke put the water running. "Okay, clothes off."

The man eyed him blearily. "You haven't even bought me dinner yet," he said dully.

"Clothes _off._ They're wet and cold and dirty and you need to get warm. Come on, chop, chop, get to it," Luke said demandingly. As the man moved to fulfil the request, he almost got tangled in his own jumper, forcing Luke to help him out of it. The whole process would've been embarrassing, but right then Luke had more important things to consider than little bit of embarrassment.

Once Harry was more or less unclothed, sitting on the tubs edge only in his underwear, looking rather thin and very cold, Luke tried the water. It seemed warm enough without being scalding. "Okay. In you go," the boy said decisively and ignoring the man's objections and hisses, he helped him to the water.

"It's hot," Harry mumbled, shuddering in the water.

"Good," the boy said forcefully. "Now stay there for a moment - and _don't drown_. I'll get you a towel and some clothes," he said, and with that said marched out of the bathroom. He made a quick turn in the laundry room to get the towel and snatch pair of Professor's pants and a shirt from the clothesline, before heading back to the bathroom. Thankfully Harry had not drowned in that time and was still sitting in the tub, looking fairly awkward.

"When can I get out?" the flushed man almost whined.

"When you're warm," Luke said in no-nonsense tone. He would not take any objections seriously from a man thought it was a good idea to go out side when he was sick. "You just soak there until the water gets cold," he said and sat on a bench beside the tub to wait. Harry looked at him with a frown, pouted at him and then leaned onto the tub's side, huffing almost sullenly. He sounded rather like Luke imagined he himself had, when the Professor had grounded him because of a cold. The show of dislike was broken by another but of harsh coughing, that made the water ripple and slosh as the man tried to quell the coughs.

"I don't like being sick," the man murmured weakly, leaning his head back and closing his eyes.

"I believe you," Luke answered. "Once you've gotten warm I'll get you something warm to eat and drink and then I'll get you some cough drops."

"You're fussing like a mother hen," Harry said, coughing weakly again. "And nosy. Anyone would've just minded their own business."

Luke harrumphed at that and almost answered with something cutting, before deciding otherwise. It was one thing that the man was outside sick like that, but the idea of what would've happened if he hadn't came by made Luke shiver. Maybe by the time the man had collapsed someone would've meddled in, but… by that time, it might've been too late.

"Well, someone has to," he muttered, looking away, and feeling very young all of sudden.

There was a long silence that followed while the man just soaked in the tub. Luke checked the water's temperature every now and then and added little bit of hot water when it started getting colder. Once the man's shivering had finally calmed down, he deemed him ready to get out of the water. By that time, the man was groggy and sleepy and thankfully very obedient, not saying much as Luke dried him with the towel and then helped into the Professor's clothes. They were entirely too long on the younger man, but rolling up the pant legs and the sleeves of the shirt made them fit well enough.

"Come on," he said, leading the quiet, feverish man to the living room and sitting him down on the couch. After surrounding the man with pillows and blankets and making sure he wouldn't get cold, Luke headed to the kitchen to make some hot tea and see if he could make some soup. That would warm the man right up.

"You're surprisingly good kid," Harry said when he came back with a pot of tea, cup and a jar of honey.

"Nothing surprising about it," Luke huffed while quickly pouring the tea and mixing some honey in it. "Here. This ought to help you with your throat and warm you a bit more."

"Alright," the man murmured, taking the cup and warming his fingers against it. "This place is pretty nice," he murmured. "You live here?"

"Me and the Professor, yeah," Luke nodded, readjusting the covers around the man. "I'm going to make some soup - just call me if you need anything."

"Mm," the man nodded and took a careful sip of the tea. Luke looked him over and nodded again with satisfaction, before heading to the kitchen and getting to work. He decided to make it a simple soup and not to get _creative_ this time around - Harry's cold would probably prefer speed to the taste.

He managed to get the soup done quickly enough and was closely watching over Harry as the man ate his share when the Professor came home. It was only when the man walked to the living room and saw their guest that Luke realised he hadn't even tried to come up with an explanation for Harry's presence there.

"Luke?" the Professor asked while shedding his rain-proof overcoat and lifting a single eyebrow at the scene. "I did not know you were planning to have guests over."

"I wasn't, Professor," Luke said, jumping up and heading to the kitchen, motioning the Professor to follow. Layton gave Harry a look - which the feverish man answered with awkward smile and a weak cough - and followed the boy. "He's sick, Professor," Luke explained after closing the door between the kitchen and the living room. "I found him in the park soaked through to bone. He was delirious and I couldn't just leave him there - he might've stayed outside or passed out or something! And he didn't even have enough clothes or anything."

"I see," Layton murmured, looking at the door between the two rooms thoughtfully.

"I made him take a hot bath because he was outside for so long and it wasn't probably good for him - I had to borrow him some of your clothes, Professor, I hope you won't mind, but his all are wet and cold," Luke said quickly, only then remembering that he probably should've hung Harry's clothes to dry. He shook his head at the thought. "I'm sorry I did this all without asking first, but I really couldn't just leave him there."

"It's alright, my boy, you did the right thing," Layton sighed and smiled at him. "And I am very proud of you. Have you taken his temperature or given him any medicine?"

"I was going to give him some cough drops after he finished eating, but that's all," Luke said, sighing with relief.

"Well then," the Professor said, and went to the medicine cupboard, taking out the thermometer ands heading back to the living room, Luke following closely behind. "Well, Mr. Potter. I hear you've fallen a bit under the weather."

"Harry," the younger man said, lowering the half empty soup bowl to the tea table. "And you could say so," he added with a laugh and a weak cough. "Sorry for the inconvenience. Puzzle puppy was being pushy."

"And you were being an idiot," Luke answered.

"Well, it doesn't matter right now. What matters is getting you well… Harry," the Professor said, sitting beside the man and touching his forehead. "Mm, you do have a fever. Let's see how high it is. Open your mouth and put this under your tongue."

Harry sighed and did as told, holding the thermometer under his tongue and sighing plaintively at the procedure. "I hate being sick," he mumbled.

"Do not speak until the thermometer is done," the Professor said sternly, and while Luke hovered behind Layton's shoulder he couldn't help but be relieved that the man was there. Luke would've only known to keep the man warm, the Professor would know what medicine to give him and so forth.

After a moment, the Professor took the thermometer and eyed it with a frown. "You do have a pretty high fever, but it doesn't seem dangerously high. Still, it's best we make sure it doesn't get any higher. Now, do you have any chest pain, head ache, anything of the sort?"

"My chest is fine, but my head is pounding," Harry sighed, leaning back and against the back rest of the couch.

"I should have some medicine for that," the Professor said, testing the younger man's forehead again and touching his cheek as well. "You're not perspiring much. Hmm… time will tell whether that is a good or bad sign." He mused, and stood up. "I'll get some medicine for you. In the mean while, do try and finish your soup."

"But I'm already full," Harry complained.

"No buts. Finish it," Luke said, folding his arms and looking at the black haired man imperiously until Harry picked the bowl again and made a lame attempt at finish it. Soon after, the Professor returned with a bottle of pills and a water glass.

"Let's try one of these, and if it doesn't work within an half an hour, we'll try two. It should ease the head ache and bring the fever down a little," the Professor said, handing a pull to the younger man before holding out the water glass. Harry swallowed the pill with a faint grimaced and drank a gulp of water after it - almost spilling the glass all over himself when another bout of coughing struck him. Layton managed to catch the glass before any accident happened, and there was a serious look on his face when he placed the water glass to the table.

"Luke my boy, do get the cough drops, would you?" he asked while easing Harry back against the backrest. "Is your throat hurting much?" Luke didn't catch Harry's answer as he walked to the kitchen and got the medicine bottle, bringing a spoon with him as he returned. "Well," the Professor was saying when he walked back in. "It's still best we try and ease the coughs. With that sort of hacking you're going to have a sore throat in no time at all."

"Here, Professor," Luke said, handing the bottle and the spoon over.

"Thank you," Layton nodded. "Do you think you can finish the soup?" he asked from Harry.

"I've had about as much as I can," the young man answered in dry voice and tried to clear his throat.

"Well then," the Professor murmured and opened the bottle. Luke would've enjoyed the grimace Harry made while swallowing the medicine, but the situation wasn't all that funny, really. "Now," Layton said, standing up. "Lie down and try and sleep a little. I'll get a cold cloth for your forehead, maybe that will ease the fever a little and help you get some rest."

"Alright," Harry sighed and settled down on the couch. "Sorry for the trouble," he said weakly, closing his eyes.

"It's a gentleman's duty to help those in need," Layton said sternly while Luke gathered the dishes in order to take them to the kitchen while the Professor got a dish of cool water and a towel. By the time Luke had cleaned the plate up, the Professor done tending to their guest and was joining Luke in the kitchen. "The fever must've worn him out - he fell asleep. Best let him rest for now," Layton said and glanced at the pot where Luke had made the soup.

"Alright, Professor," Luke nodded while getting plates for the man and himself. "Do you think he will be alright?" he then asked a little worriedly.

"Unless the fever goes up again, I don't think there is anything to be worried about," Layton smiled. "Thanks to your quick thinking, he should be on the road to recovery. If we get lucky, he might get better before the night and I might even be able to drive him home before it gets dark," He shook his head while accepting a plate from the boy and going about getting some soup for himself. "I do wonder whatever drove him out sick in weather like this, though," the man murmured.

Luke shrugged awkwardly. "He said he doesn't like his home," he said quietly. "Said it was cold and empty and someone there - Kreacher or something - hates him," he frowned and thought back to the conversation he had had with Harry on the way to the house. "He kept saying that something wasn't his fault - that he was trying to fix it, but he wasn't good at it. Or something."

"It's best not to take the words of a feverish man seriously, my boy," Layton mused frowning before shaking his head and moving to sit by the kitchen table. "For now, let us let him rest and once he wakes up again I will have a word with him."

"Alright, Professor," Luke nodded and they started to eat. After eating, he would hang Harry's clothes to dry in the laundry room, he thought to himself. Maybe they would dry a little before the evening.

However, Harry didn't wake again that day. The fever didn't get worse, probably thank to the cold cloth Professor changed every now and then, but Harry didn't seem to get quickly better either. After trying to wake the man up, only to have the man be delirious for few minutes before falling asleep again, the Professor decided to keep the man in their home over the night.

"I feel it is safest to let him rest," he said to Luke while they made sure their guest would be comfortable thorough the night before they too get ready to sleep. "If he has appointments or something the like, his bout of illness should be explanation enough for missing them. If Harry is not better by the morning, I will call the university to cancel my classes, and stay in to take care of him."

"Should I stay too?" Luke asked.

"No, I do not think it is necessary, my boy," Layton smiled, ruffling his hair gently and he stood up. "Now come. It's time we too get some rest."

x

Luke woke up to the sound of the crash, coming from the living room. He lay frozen still in his bed for a moment, thinking that it might be a burglar or something, before a stream of curses followed the crash. He sat up, confused for a moment before he remembered their guest - and just then he could hear how the door to the Professor's bedroom opened and closed as the man made his way out. Soon after, the boy could hear talking coming from the living room, and quickly stood up and followed his teacher there.

"Sorry, sorry. Ouch, _damnit_… hit my toe onto the table," Harry was grumbling while the Professor was helping him off the floor. The tea table was tipped over and by the look of it, Harry had broken the water glass that had been left onto the table for him "I was going to try and see where the bathroom was but - ouch!"

"Careful, careful - there is some shattered glass -" the Professor trailed away and sighed. "Harry, I do believe you might've cut your foot on a shard."

"You _think_?" Harry grumbled while the Professor more or less manhandled him back to the couch so that he wouldn't injure himself further. "Aww, damn, now I'm bleeding all over your carpet on top of everything. This is just great, _Merlin_…"

"Should I get the broom, Professor?" Luke asked, rubbing his eyes as he stepped further into the room.

"Ah, you woke up too, my boy. Yes, do get the broom, and a rag to clean the water with. I shall get something for Harry's foot," Layton sighed, and while their guest eyed them with faint embarrassment, the two of them got to the work. While the Professor tended to he cut in their guest's foot, cleaning it and bandaging it, Luke made quick work of the glass shards, brushing them off the carpet before carrying them to the bin where they wouldn't cut anyone's foot.

"Sorry. I'm just causing trouble for you guys," Harry murmured embarrassedly as the Professor finished bandaging his foot. "I feel like an idiot."

"It's quite alright, Harry," Layton answered with a smile. "Such things happen to everyone. Now, I do believe you were intending to visit the bathroom? It is the left side door over there," he motioned at the side of the room. "Can you make the trip on that foot?"

"It's just a cut," the younger man said, forcing himself to his feet, and slowly limping to the bathroom.

Luke yawned. "Well," he said. "Can't say that things are boring around him."

"No, you can't say that," the Professor agreed with a faint chuckle and smiled to him. "You should go back to bed, my boy," he said. "You have school tomorrow and you do not want to be tired for the classes, do you?"

"I guess not, Professor," Luke sighed and eyed the closed bathroom door. "He seems to be feeling better."

"Hopefully, by tomorrow he won't have fever anymore," the Professor agreed. "Now, to bed with you, my boy."

"Yes, Professor. Good night," Luke said a little grudgingly - he would've wanted to see if anything else interesting would happen - but under the man's stern stare he turned and headed out of the room. Soon he was back in his own room, yawning as he settled under the comforter of his bed.

However, he couldn't get the hang of sleep immediately - and then the sound of talking coming from the living room chased any hint of tiredness he might've felt. He listened to the muffled tones for a moment, trying to make out the words but with two walls in between, all he could hear was murmur.

For a moment Luke fought against the urge to go and eavesdrop and the knowledge that the Professor had told him to get to the bed - before the former won. As quietly as he could, he got out of the bed again, and tiptoed to the door, and then out to the corridor.

"…worries. I'll get out of your hair tomorrow, and I won't be more trouble for you," Harry was saying when Luke got close enough to listen in. "Would go right now, but I don't think I could navigate properly."

"I do not believe I would let you go in the middle of the night in any case," the Professor answered with a mirthless chuckle. "But if you are feeling better by the morning, I will of course drive you home."

"That's okay, I can walk," the younger man assured

"Not with a fever - and even if it is down by the morn, it is too soon to venture the cold air outside. No, I insist giving you a lift," the Professor said in that voice that accepted no objections, making Luke smile a little. "Now, unless you are too tired for discussion of course, I would like to know. Whatever reason where you outside whilst sick? Any man with half a sense should know better."

Harry didn't answer for a long moment, and while Luke craned his neck to hear, the Professor sighed. "I can understand if it was a feverish deliriousness that motivated you to pull such a stunt, but if the reason is… personal, then I shall say it is none of my business and back off."

"That's not it," Harry answered with a chuckle. "You don't have to worry about me kicking the bucket in your house. I can do that in my own just as well, thank you very much."

"That is not what I meant," Layton answered almost gently. "If you have problems at home -"

"That's not it either. Don't worry about it. Sometimes I just do stupid things, that's it," Harry answered with another laugh. "It's okay, Professor, really. No need to fret."

"I am not fretting. I am merely concerned for my guest," the Professor answered calmly.

The said guest just laughed in return. "The puzzle puppy was right. You are _so_ nice," Harry mused. "Probably one of the nicest men I've met. How do you do that?"

"I merely try and be a proper gentleman," the Professor answered with a hint of defensiveness in his tone.

Luke fell asleep sitting against the wall in the hallway, listening to Harry tease the Professor about gentlemen and good Samaritans. He didn't wake up even when some time later the Professor found him and carried him back to bed.

x

Not a single puzzle in whole chapter, oh noes. Delirious Harry was surprisingly fun to write, not to mention about mother hen Luke and Layton being all serious business. (Also, no, the movie hasn't been released here yet. I saw it in the net.) Thank you for the patch up work guys, yes the first riddle from the last chapter was "counterfeit money", and my apologies for possible grammar errors.


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